


Lacrimae Aureae

by 1241578



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Severus Snape, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Severus Snape Lives, Top Harry, Vampire Harry, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 15:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30074436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1241578/pseuds/1241578
Summary: Three years after the end of the second war, Harry has gotten himself into a tricky position. Like always, Severus Snape finds himself wrapped up in Potter's disaster as they both work to cure the young man's vampirism.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	Lacrimae Aureae

Harry had become rather familiar with hospital beds while living as the Boy Saviour of the Wizarding World. Even in his current semi-sleeping state, he was able to discern he was at St Mungo's by the thickness of the mattress alone. While slightly better than what he had grown up sleeping on at the Dursleys, it was no match for the memory foam bed that awaited Harry at home. 

Home.

Why wasn't he at home?

Sure, his body ached as if he had been hit by the Hogwarts Express and yes, calling his memory fuzzy would be an understatement, but that usually wasn't enough to warrant a trip to the hospital.

Unless.

"Oh Merlin, do I have amnesia?" Harry muttered, finally finding the strength to open his eyes. 

"One could only dream of you being so fortunate." A voice drawled as a blurry mass of black approached the bed. 

Harry didn't need his full vision to recognize who was speaking to him, he had heard the man's voice a thousand times.

"Professor Snape, what are you doing here?" Harry asked, equal parts upset and bewildered, as he reached about blindly for his glasses. They were eventually pressed into his hand by a surprisingly warm set of fingers and he quickly put them on to properly regard his situation. 

Snape had returned to his spot at the foot of the bed after passing Harry his glasses and gave the young man a signature sneer as his eyes focused upon him. "I've been called here to try and save your life yet again, Mr Potter, so I'd suggest you lose that accusatory tone."

Harry couldn't help but be on edge around the man. After all, their last conversation hadn't gone so swimmingly - and that had been three years ago, right after the war.

Harry had fought hard to clear Snape's name and get him the recognition he deserved, but he had basically been told to bugger off when he tried to convince his former professor to publicly accept his Order of Merlin, Second Class for his work as a spy for the Light.

Suddenly, Harry fully processed what Snape had said and the implications hit him like a tonne of bricks."Wait, what do you mean _save my life_ , am I dying?" He looked himself over to the best of his abilities. Nothing seemed out of place, save for the aching pain and memory problems.

"Slow on the uptake as ever, I see." Snape sighed and pinched his nose as if he had just been asked if gillyweed was electric blue. "Yes and no, you are in the process of dying but not in the way that you think." 

Harry grimaced and stared Snape down. "Can you just speak plainly for once?"

Snape took an unnaturally long pause, as if he was reluctant to answer Harry's question. "You're turning into a vampire, Potter."

With that sentence, Harry's missing memories came flooding back. He and a couple other aurors had been tracking down a rogue vampire for weeks. When they thought they had him cornered, all hell broke loose. The last thing Harry remembered seeing before blacking out was McPherson getting his throat ripped out.

Hesitantly, he reached up towards his own neck and, sure enough, found a healing wound wrapped up in bandages. 

Though his outward expression was one of neutrality, in his mind Harry was desperately trying to recall everything he had learned about vampires in preparation for this case.

There were plenty of muggle myths about vampires, but they had gotten many of the details wrong. Yes, vampires were faster and stronger than their living counterparts, but they wouldn't be killed by something as simple as holy water or garlic. Furthermore, a bite wasn't enough to turn someone, instead the victim would have to also ingest some of the attacker's blood as well.

That last fact brought the image of McPherson's throat back into Harry's mind. "The other aurors that were with me, Keohane and McPherson, are they-?"

"Dead." Snape interjected flatly. He had obviously recovered from whatever hesitation he had on broaching the subject.

Harry's brow furrowed out of frustration. "Why would he kill them and then turn me? Shouldn't he have just gotten rid of us all?" He didn't expect an answer, but Snape offered one anyway.

"Maybe he had a sense of humour, once it gets out that the Boy Saviour is a vampire your image will be in tatters."

Harry had had enough of Snape's cutting words for one day and desperately wanted to be rid of him. "So really, why are you here? There's nothing you can do if I'm actually turning."

Anger flashed in Snape's eyes and he immediately retorted. "I'm working on something that may fix this whole situation, you insolent prat!"

"A potion?" Harry asked, already knowing it was a stupid question.

"Gold star, Mr Potter, I have been working on this potion for over a year now. With your assistance, I may finally be able to find a cure for vampirism." Snape then looked away from Harry before speaking again. "In return for your cooperation I am also willing to serve as your 'blood bank' so to speak for as long as it is needed."

Harry's stomach churned at the idea. It would be a while before he acquired a taste for blood but worse yet was the idea of _Snape_ offering up his neck to Harry. One fact many muggles had missed in their retelling of vampire attacks is that non-lethal vampire bites work as an aphrodisiac not only for the attacker, but also the victim.

"Rid yourself of whatever disgusting thoughts are flitting through your mind." Snape growled, snapping Harry's attention back to the present. "I've begun developing a salve which inhibits the aphrodisiacal effect of a vampire bite specifically for this situation."

Harry let out a sigh of relief, there was one disaster dodged.

"Don't get too comfy Mr Potter, the reason I'm here at this moment is to get you discharged, you're coming to stay with me."

And there was one disaster that hit him dead on. 

"What do you mean I'm staying with you? Can't I just live at my own place and visit you as needed?" Harry could hear the whining tone in his voice, but chose to ignore it.

"Yes, why don't you go back to your own place and go through your transformation alone? If we're lucky you may accidentally kill a wizard or two in the process." Snape replied mockingly.

Right, Harry had not transformed yet. From what he understood of it, it was a weeklong process where the victim would slowly grow more and more weak until their heart stopped beating. Once that occurred, the victim would appear dead for upwards of 72 hours while their body reconstructs itself before they woke up again, this time fully changed and nearly ravenous with thirst.

Snape was right, going through that process alone would likely lead to disaster.

"Fine." Harry agreed, begrudgingly. "You're right, I can't do this alone."

Snape appeared almost surprised at how easily Harry had agreed to the situation, but Harry himself paid the expression no mind. Instead, he swung his legs off over the side of the hospital bed and stood up to stretch. "Well, where to Professor?"

\----

Severus was more than happy to be leaving the Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites. He had spent months in that dingy space while he recovered from his incident in the Shrieking Shack and figured that was enough experience to last him a lifetime. 

What he was less overjoyed about was the company he had in tow: one soon-to-be undead Harry Potter.

Although he hadn't seen the young man in person for three years, Severus kept a close eye on the Daily Prophet to make sure Potter didn't manage to stir up too much trouble, old habits did die hard. 

He saw through the few photos that Skeeter managed to get of the young auror that his training had shaped him into a somewhat rugged looking man. 

Seeing him in the flesh did give Severus a vague understanding as to why Potter had been labeled the Wizarding World's "Desirable No 1." His previously boyish features had given way to become well defined; his five o'clock shadow highlighted his sharp jawline, while his dark circles gave the verdant eyes which they framed an ethereal glow. His muscles were toned from his intensive training and the bird's nest he considered hair had grown longer and now looked more windswept than disastrous.

Still, his personality remained as obnoxious as ever. When Minerva reached out about the situation Potter had worked himself into, Severus briefly considered letting the idiotic man with a hero complex suffer his fate. He was far too old to still believe every situation would eventually come up roses, yet here he was, reinforcing that idea in Potter's head.

"Professor Snape? Where are we going exactly?" Potter's voice snapped Severus from his thoughts as they made their way through the hospital.

"Are you a current student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?" Potter seemed puzzled by the question Severus asked, but answered anyway. "I'm not, I've been graduated for a few years now."

"Then why do you still insist on calling me Professor Snape?" Severus watched as Potter appeared to weigh which snarky retort would be the most damaging and was surprised when the young auror settled on giving a noncommittal shrug. "I dunno what else to call you, 'Snape' seems too mean but 'Mr Snape' seems like im trying to copy you." 

Severus hadn't considered the alternatives before and, when faced with them, realized 'Professor Snape' was probably the best he could hope for. "Fine, you can keep calling me that if you insist. To answer your previous question, I am taking you to my personal quarters at Hogwarts. Minerva has seen to making an expansion of the space so that you may have your own room to rest in." 

"Wait, how have you gotten all of this done so fast?" Potter stopped moving forward, almost as if he couldn't achieve both critical thinking and walking at the same time. "How long was I out for?" 

"They found you three days ago." Severus answered flatly, still moving ahead. He heard the pounding of feet on linoleum echo through the hall as Potter scrambled to catch up with his long strides. "That means I could change-"

"Yes, any moment now, which is why I came to collect you today. No sense in letting the fools from this ward attempt to care for you as you transform, you'd probably never wake up." 

Potter's expression was grim as the two made their way to the central fireplace of St Mungo's. Severus went first, grabbing a pinch of floo powder and casting it into the flames before stepping in himself. "Severus Snape's Personal Chambers." 

Just moments later, Severus was stepping out of the fireplace in his private office. He threw a cursory glance over the room and, after finding nothing out of place, turned to face the fire and await Potter's arrival.

It wasn't long before Potter came stumbling in after him, practically collapsing into Severus' arms. "All this time and you still can't properly manage floo travel?" Severus asked, slightly amused as he watched Potter's ears turn pink.

The young man recovered quickly, pushing himself away from Severus and casting a glance around the room he had entered. "So, which one is mine?" He asked and gestured towards the doors in a clear attempt to change the subject.

Severus considered calling Potter out on the less than smooth transition of topics, but thought better of it. "Yours is the door on the left, Potter. I've already collected the essentials for you, my suggestion is that you clean yourself up and then settle in, your next rest will likely be a long one."

\----

Harry had noticed as he travelled with Snape that his body was significantly weaker than usual. Now that he stood alone in what was to become his personal room, he felt the full weight of the aching pain in his body press down on him.

Harry was scared, not that he'd ever admit that, especially not to Snape of all people. Although his former professor had been cordial (by Snape standards, that is) so far, Harry worried that any sign of weakness would make Snape think less of him.

Why did Harry care about what his git of an old professor thought of him, anyways? He had asked himself that question many times before. 

Even though they hadn't spoken in years, he knew from McGonagall that Snape still kept an eye on him. Harry didn't understand why, but he did know that he fretted over how every Daily Prophet headline would be received.

Apparently they didn't deal a terrible amount of damage because when he needed him most, Snape was there. Just like always.

Harry sighed as he looked himself over in the bathroom mirror. Minus the bandages around his neck, he only looked a little worse for wear. His skin was a bit paler than usual, which accentuated his growing dark circles and day-too-long stubble. 

Really, if it wasn't for his injury, he could probably pass the whole situation off as a fever dream from working himself too hard.

Harry climbed into the shower, wondering if this could all really turn out to be a bad dream. He had busied himself with washing away the leftover grime from his run in days prior when he came crashing to the floor with a stabbing pain in his chest. It felt like a knife was being buried in him with every beat of his heart. 

If this really was a nightmare, he'd be happy to wake up soon.

The pain was blinding and so intense that Harry couldn't even begin to consider moving. Frantically, he tried to search his brain for a solution, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his bathroom door being swung open.

"Potter!" Harry heard Snape yell, followed by a fair bit of swearing. Soon after, he felt his body lift off the ground as he was levitated back into his bedroom.

Most of the pain had passed as he was settled into bed, but Harry felt far weaker than before. It was a battle just to keep his eyes open, slowly tracking Snape's movements as he paced beside his bed.

"I'm dying." His voice was hoarse and the words nearly caught in his throat.

"Temporarily, yes." Snape replied as he turned his full attention to the young man.

Harry put all of his energy into focusing on Snape's presence beside him, but felt himself begin to slip away.

"Professor…" His voice was barely a whisper now, he wasn't even sure Snape could hear him. "Don't leave me."

The last thing he felt before falling into the darkness was a pair of warm hands gripping his own.


End file.
